it's the last week of the term and i can feel the festive mood welling inside me. it is compounded by the glittery christmas lights along the streets, and the oh-so-tall christmas tree at market square. and definitely the gushing excitement that an ice-skating and ice-bumper car(!) rink will be opening in camb itself tomorrow.
and of course the flurry of christmas formals, the preparations for cf's christmas event, and the upcoming cf play- all just before some of the people i see so much during term time fly home for a whole six weeks.
but somehow, i think my supervisors disagree with this premature delightfulness of festivity, for they try to occupy my every thought and waking hour with essays and short answer questions. they try to make sure i maximise every learning opportunity available, right up till the very last day possible, i.e. friday.
don't get me wrong; i do enjoy my course very much the whole michaelmas term. in fact, i will be more than pleased to blog about some of the interesting and insightful things that both lecturers and supervisors have taught me in the past 7 weeks, only if writing about such things don't feel so much like writing essays. i think i possibly could pass as an essay machine now, with an average rate of churning out two essays per week. i have survived two essay crises, which should have make writing two a week seem all the more effortless, if only the lecturers have made things easier to grasp right till the very end.
i am now again at the interface of end-of-term and start-of-break, where the strange but familiar sense of ambivalence lies. i know too well that the extensively long breaks that we cantabs are priviledged to have are almost just like another term, minus the anticipation of attending lectures and having sandwich lunches with the people whose company is so much enjoyed.
i am exhausted- i need a break. but breaks seem to entail nothingness, which then brings dreadful ennui...
i think i am just impossible to please.
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